


A Terror to Behold

by Shiny and Zinc (Adira_Tyree)



Category: Mad Max: Fury Road, mad max - Fandom
Genre: BAMF, Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adira_Tyree/pseuds/Shiny%20and%20Zinc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She'd gone half her life with half an arm, she knew how to work with and around it. She could pick up tools and hold them with her feet as she worked, or tuck them under her belt, between her teeth, down her shirt. Any of it was fair game.</i>
</p>
<p>A short character-study type piece on Furiosa, set before the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Terror to Behold

       Her arm ached - at least, what was left of her arm did, and some unfortunate part of her brain decided the rest of it was pretty unhappy too. Carefully she unbuckled the various straps around her and let the mechanical arm fall to the ground. When they'd first given it to her she was always afraid to let it fall. It took her years of practice to be able to unbuckle it and catch it in one quick motion - not particularly smooth or graceful, but doable. Some days it just wasn't worth the fight. On those days, she let it fall, and it was no worse for wear because of it.

       The metal arm was heavy, solid and unpadded and unforgiving. Sure, there had been padding with it years ago, but it was long since crushed in and worthless now. Now it was just the shock of hard metal covered by worn leather. A jarring sensation that ran up into her shoulder whenever she caught something with it. The sting of fresh blisters if it got even a little bit loose. The ache in her neck. The tightness gripping around her ribs and constricting her lungs.

       If she didn’t need to drive, she didn’t bother to wear it. She'd gone half her life with half an arm, she knew how to work with and around it. She could pick up tools and hold them with her feet as she worked, or tuck them under her belt, between her teeth, down her shirt. Any of it was fair game. If she needed to climb the war rig, or up to a higher shelf, or anywhere really, her good arm was strong and her grip could bend cold metal. She could hold onto the walls with her fingertips and her toes.

       Warboys never touched her, not after she’d proven herself time and time again to be every bit as strong and capable as they were. Ones who had witnessed her wrath respected her. Those who had summoned it? They _feared_ her. She was _Furiosa_ , a terror to behold. But where they were feral, she was raw rage and hate that she had learned to use and to restrain and to quell. They were toxic, she knew. Living with them was like building a resistance to a poison. Working for them was just taking an especially large dose and hoping to live through it to do the whole thing all over again.

       Patience was a skill that took all her life to build, and still it faltered on the days where her missing arm ached the worst. But it would be worth it to wait until just the right moment. And in that moment she would have her freedom – and maybe a few others’ freedom as well.


End file.
